


Let's Start Right Now

by Calypso_Mary



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Pimms, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calypso_Mary/pseuds/Calypso_Mary
Summary: When you flirt with both members of the same couple, you might get a two NHL boyfriends out of it, according to Eric Bittle.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [PBJ_EpiFest_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PBJ_EpiFest_2016) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Song/Artist: Perfect, One Direction 
> 
> Prompt Details: These lyrics scream Kent to me:  
> But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms  
> And if you like having secret little rendezvous  
> If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do  
> Then baby, I'm perfect  
> Baby, I'm perfect for you
> 
> Additional Info: Up to you how they get into that hotel room. If you decide that Bitty and Jack are already together and Jack's still in the closet, you might consider this lyric as a line/conversation topic from Kent to Bitty: "And if you like cameras flashing every time we go out"
> 
> \-------------------------  
> This is the first fic I have written in a while, so it's a bit rough, but I had fun. I thought PB&J needed some fluff.  
> Also, thank you so much to G, who beta-d/cheer-read this for me on such short notice, and who listened to me talk through one version of this prompt, put that version on the back burner, listened to me talk about this one, and then was super supportive <3\. Also thank you to A who was super patient with me and also listened to me think out this thing. You both are treasures. <3

Bitty stands at the foot of his bed, lip tucked between his teeth, and stares down at a modest assortment of shirts and pants, a few bowties scattered across the comforter.

“I shouldn’t wear a tank top, we’re cooking a nice dinner,” he mutters to himself, folding the two tank tops up and putting them back in his dresser, only to return to the foot of the bed.

“It’s warm out, so maybe,” He picks up a soft grey v-neck and tugs it on, then turns to look in the mirror.

“Okay, this might work,” he snaps a picture and texts it to Lardo.

 

**Bitty:**

hEY do you think this is nice enough for dinner at their apartment????

 

He starts folding up the clothes he found unworthy for the evening, the methodic motions calming the subtle buzz of nerves for his fourth date. The first three dates were _amazing_. The first was a very private dinner at this French place? He tried to pronounce the name during the date and Jack chirped him all to hell for it. It had an amazing crème brûlée though, and they got caught talking there for hours.

The second date was more casual, watching a movie at their place. He made some mini pies for the occasion and well, a blush tinges his cheeks. The sounds Kent made when he took his first bite were borderline _filthy_ , followed up by a significantly less filthy, but really sweet, kiss. He remembers resting a hand on Kent’s chest at one point and _Lord_ , that man must work out for a living to be that muscular. It was a really good night, his stomach flutters a bit as he thinks of the soft kiss Jack pressed into his hair on his way out the door.

He’s just, he’s so, well, not in love, but so _happy_ with how everything’s going between them.

When he first met these fine young men at Shitty’s party at the beginning of the summer, he didn’t realize they were together, so he was flirting with Kent without a care for a solid five minutes. Kent was just being his charming self, smirking and laughing and Bitty thought he was getting somewhere. Then this gorgeous dark-haired man walked up and honestly the thought that they were together never occurred to Bitty. In the end, there he was, flirting with both members of a couple.

Eventually he noticed how they were looking at each other, the way Kent was leaning towards Jack, the not so subtle brush of their shoulders. He remembered feeling so embarrassed, trying as quickly and politely as possible to extract himself from the conversation, but Kent kept asking him questions? About the dessert he brought, about Georgia, about figure skating. Eventually the conversation deescalated into a much less flirty, but still really good chat.

At the end of the party, they parted ways and he thought that he might see them in another year or two at another one of Shitty’s parties. Fast forward three days later, when he gets a text from Lardo, then a text from Kent and Jack. The text from Lardo is a warning to expect texts from Jack and Kent because she might have given them his number. They texted, hit it off, and then a week later they had a date.

A ding from his phone interrupts his thoughts. He fishes it out of his pocket and taps the screen.

 

**Lardo:**

get it!!!

 

Bitty chuckles and types out a response.

 

**Bitty:**

I will try

He pockets his phone and rushes to the kitchen, grabbing his apron to take with him and the pie that he’d set out to cool an hour earlier. He pats his pocket to check for his wallet and grabs his keys from the hook. He is halfway out the door before he grabs a small duffle, to keep in the car, you know, just in case. He locks up his apartment and heads to his car, a small contented smile resting on his face.

-

Bitty knocks, pie carrier in one hand, apron flung over his arm. A moment passes, and he considers knocking again, but then the door opens, Jack’s warm smile beckoning him inside.

“Hey, how are y’all doing today?” Bitty steps inside and goes to set the pie on the kitchen counter.

“Doing just fine,” Kent chops roughly at some asparagus, “you?”

“My day has been just peachy,” Bitty leans closer to Kent, “what can I do to help with dinner?”

“You can take that bottle of wine,” he gestures with his elbow, flashing his eyebrows, “and open it while Jack gets glasses.” Kent eyes Jack, smiling.

“On it!” Bitty grabs the corkscrew on the counter and starts to open the bottle.

He hears a cabinet close and glances up, seeing Jack kiss Kent on the cheek while carrying the wine glasses to the counter. Kent smiles, bumping his hip into Jack, who takes the cue and sets the wine glasses on the counter before picking up the bottle. _They love each other so much_ , flits through Bitty’s mind, a curl of warmth seeping into his stomach.

“How much would you like Bitty?” Jack asks, starting to pour the wine.

“Oh! Um,” Bitty is pulled from his thoughts, “That’s just fine sweetheart.”

Jack delicately hands Bitty the half full wine glass, their fingers brushing during the exchange. Bitty takes a sip, holding Jack’s gaze for a moment before smiling and turning towards Kent.

“How much would you like?” Bitty asks while Jack readies another glass.

“A little more than what you had,” Kent’s statement punctuated at the end by the knife smacking into the cutting board, cutting the last few stalks of asparagus.

“You are aware that that’s a knife and not an axe, right?” Bitty chirps, eyeing the uneven asparagus with mild mirth.

“Hey,” Kent flicks a bit of asparagus stalk at him with his knife, “I think I’m fortunate to have made it this far.”

“Of course, darlin’,” Bitty smiles, rolling his eyes, “At least you’re handsome.”

“Damn right I am,” Kent mutters, tossing asparagus and potatoes in oil, salt, and pepper.

“You are,” Jack chuckles as he sits down next to Bitty.

Bitty takes a sip of wine, now noticing that Britney Spears had been playing in the background all this time. He bops idly to the song, and catches Kent watching him while he puts the vegetables in a pan for roasting, smiling. Bitty smiles back, a blush subtly filling his cheeks. Jack shifts slightly so that his knee bumps into Bitty’s, which honestly does not help the blushing situation, dang it.

“And we’re in the oven,” Kent says, setting the timer and giving Bitty a reprieve, “What kind of pie did you make?”

“I hope y’all like peaches. I made peach pie from my mamma’s best recipe,” Bitty gushes.

“It sounds delicious,” Jack says, “We got some vanilla ice cream in case you wanted to serve it with the pie.”

“Oh perfect! Maybe towards the tail end of dinner I can pop some slices in the oven to warm,” Bitty offers, “Pie a la mode is better with warm pie, at least for fruit pies” he explains offhandedly. “I wrote a whole article once on how to best serve different types of pie with ice cream.”

“Is there a wrong way?” Kent asks, taking off his hat and raking his fingers through his hair, cowlicks springing up defiantly.

“You just gotta make sure the ice cream complements the pie,” Bitty notices the hat Kent sat on the counter, “Oh! You’re fans of the Falcs too?”

Kent and Jack look at each other.

“You could say that,” Kent says, smirking.

“I’m honestly not surprised. Shitty and Lardo are huge fans,” Bitty takes a sip of wine, “I have never actually been over while they’re watching a Falcs game, but apparently they go all out, even have signed jerseys.”

“Do you like hockey?” Jack asks, curiously, almost cautiously.

“Oh yeah!” Bitty crows, “It’s like, the northern equivalent to football or something. I’ve never played it seriously, but I watch it often enough, usually with Shitty and Lardo.”

“Maybe when hockey season starts back up we can go to a game,” Kent suggests over his shoulder as he opens the fridge.

“Sure Kent,” Jack chuckles, apparently finding the thought amusing, and gets up to pull a pan out to preheat on the stove.                                       

“Well I think that sounds lovely,” Bitty smiles warmly.

Hockey season isn’t for a few months. Giddiness rises in his chest at the thought of Kent suggesting doing something in a few months, like he is assured that they will last that long. Bitty feels warm and loose and good and the scent of roasting vegetables and the sizzle of fresh meat laying on a hot pan somehow inexplicably makes him feel like he is some sort of semblance of home. Kent lets Jack take over the kitchen and sits down next to Bitty, pouring himself a little more wine. Kent gives Bitty a questioning look, raising the wine bottle toward Bitty’s glass. Bitty nods and lets Kent give him a bit more.

“Hey Jack I don’t think we’ll get a better opening than this,” Kent tells Jack, who looks a bit startled.

“I thought we said we would-” Jack starts, but Kent cuts him off.

“I know but this came up so let’s do it, yeah?” Kent smiles reassuringly at Jack, who nods, worry pinching at his brows, but sets a timer for the salmon. Jack’s fingers tangle with Kent’s and they both look at Bitty.    

“What are y’all talking about?” Bitty feels more or less lost.

“Well, it might be hard for us to watch a hockey game together,” Kent starts, “but we could a go to the same game if it’s ‘round here pretty easily.”

This does nothing to help Bitty’s confusion.

“Kent and I both play for the Falcs.” Jack clarifies.

 _Oh_. Well, that’s a surprise! They were incredibly vague when Bitty asked them about what they did, both responding with ‘something related to sports’, like they were some trainer or journalist. This actually makes a lot of sense. Explains why both of them are built like trees.

“Okay,” Bitty starts, “I understand why you didn’t tell me earlier, since hockey seems to be a bit… and you don’t want…” Bitty trails off.

“Yeah, neither of us wants that unless it’s on our own terms and,” Kent reaches out to rest a hand on Bitty’s shoulder, “we wanted to make sure things could potentially work out before telling someone.”

“So this means you think it could work out between the three of us?” Bitty asks, reserved but hopeful. His voice sounds too tight, and he internally berates himself, but he doesn’t look away from Kent’s gray-green gaze.

“Yeah, we both do,” Kent squeezes Bitty’s shoulder, then glances up at Jack.

“We were hoping you would be okay with dating a couple of NHL players,” Jack says, and Bitty sees the warmth in his eyes and he can’t help but nod fervently.

“I would love to date both of you,” Bitty’s face is smiling so big it hurts and Kent and Jack are smiling too and _oh goodness_ , “NHL or not.”

Kent leans in closer to Bitty, sliding his hand from Bitty’s shoulder to the back of his neck. Bitty gets the hint and their lips meet, warm and plush. Bitty feels another hand on his arm and when he and Kent break away, Bitty tilts his head up and slots his lips with Jack’s. Jack hums low into the kiss, and when they pull back, Bitty rests his head lightly on Jack’s chest, just smiling to himself. He glances up and see Kent and Jack share a kiss too, another curl of warmth in his chest.  

The timer goes off, and everyone is broken out of the moment as Jack rushes to turn off the stove and oven.

“Dinner’s ready,” he pulls the roast vegetables out of the oven, “Let’s enjoy it and have a nice talk, eh?” He smiles warmly and winks at both of them. Bitty blushes a bit, and Kent just gives a practiced wink back.

They set dinner on the table along with the wine and tuck in, the low tunes of pop music and clinking of cutlery on plates a gentle background that fills the pregnant pauses in conversation.

“So,” Bitty starts, “y’all both play in the NHL, and it’s important that it doesn’t get out that you’re dating each other or anything like that, so I understand and I’m okay with not being able to tell people who y’all are.”

Jack winces a bit and Kent burgeons a slight grimace.

“I know it’s not ideal,” Kent holds Bitty’s gaze, “we’re not out yet; we’re not ready, and it’s a lot to ask of you to do this.” Kent glances over at Jack, who takes over.

“If something feels off or is wrong or you’re not happy, please let us know and we can work through it together,” Jack gives a warm, reassuring smile.

“Thank you both, that really means a lot,” Bitty says sincerely, his heart filling with warmth.

“We want to see how this works out, which means that we might need to work out a few kinks,” Jack finishes

Kent waggles his eyebrows, then says in mock seriousness, “You know if you ever want to discuss kinks we are very open minded and eager for input.”

“Oh well in that case,” Bitty laughs, “We will definitely have to have a discussion about those,” his voice on the right side of provocative.

Kent smirks and glances over at Jack, who is smiling and looks altogether unfazed aside from a tinge of heat hitting across his cheekbones.

They talk and chirp. Bitty warms up the pie and after they finish eating, Jack kisses Bitty and licks into his mouth under the guise of checking to see if Bitty’s slice had tasted any different. If they linger on each other’s lips, that’s between the three of them.

Bitty has to go get his duffle from the car.

 

-

 

Bitty steps off the train, backpack slung over his shoulder, looking around to get out of everyone’s way. He gets out his phone and swipes out a quick text.

 

**Bitty:**

here!!!! where did yall decide we would eat?

 

He pockets his phone and weaves his way through the busy station. His phone buzzes.

 

**Kent:**

apparently theres this place that makes really good chicken tenders??? so we’re eating there we just got done with practice skate tho so meet us at our hotel? yeaaaah that would be best

 

**Bitty:**

ok be there in a bit!

 

Bitty calls an Uber and waits on a bench outside the station. He tucks his coat tighter around him, pulling his hat down so it covers his ears. His breath fogs in front of his face and puffs into a soft plume. A minute later, his ride pulls up.

He opens the passenger door and slides into the seat, giving the driver a smile.

“Hey I’m Jean, how are you today?” She asks brightly, straight brown hair glinting in the sunlight as she starts driving.

“I am doing swell, thank you,” Bitty replies, fiddling with his phone.

Jean drives through light traffic as they stumble through small talk, how cold it’s been, the upcoming holidays. Eventually, they pull up in front of the hotel. He bids the driver goodbye, who waves back cheerfully, and steps out onto a semi busy sidewalk. Ducking his head against the cold, he pushes open the heavy lobby doors and heads inside. Inside it’s much warmer, so he takes off his hat and unwraps his scarf, excitement jumping in his belly. As he sits down, he pulls out his phone.

 

**Bitty:**

in the lobby! excited to see you both! 

 

He hums to himself while scrolling through his twitter feed, killing time while waiting for his boyfriends to be ready. Every so often he lifts his gaze to scan the lobby. Despite his best efforts, they still catch him by surprise.

“Hey Bits,” Kent saunters up with Jack, hands shoved in his jacket.

Bitty’s head perks up, “Hey y’all! How was skate?”

He stands up, darting forward for a hug, but he quickly halts himself, one arm frozen outstretched. He covers it up by giving Kent a firm pat on the shoulder. Kent smiles at him, and it’s good, but not quite good enough to cover up some of the strain around his eyes. Jack nudges Bitty with his shoulder, a reassurance disguised as a prompt to get going.  

“It was good, did some prep work,” Jack debriefs, pushing the door open, “How was your trip?”

“It was just dandy,” Bitty follows them out onto the sidewalk, “worked a bit on an article about alternatives to crust for topping a pie. Now where are we headed?”

“It should be just a few blocks from here,” Kent is looking down at his phone, presumably at a map, “yeah we’re going the right way; it shouldn’t take us long to get there.”

“So how did you guys find this place?” Bitty asks.

“Oh, well,” Jack chuckles, “Habit, I suppose? Whenever we go on a roadie I check to see if there is anywhere nearby that has really good chicken tenders.”

“Yeah, habit,” Kent clarifies, “We had a bit of a rough game in our second year, both blaming ourselves a bit too much.”

“We found a random diner and got food, and those were some of the best chicken tenders I have ever had,” Jack says, awe coloring his voice. “Ever since then, we always check to see if there’s anything worth checking out.”

“Yeah, sometimes we find something good. Sometimes it’s a dud. We’ll see how this one fairs,” Kent shrugs. “This should be it right here actually.”

Kent gestures to a shop coming up on their right, a hole in the wall with a small, proud sign labelled _Diane’s_ jutting from the building. They cross the street and filter into the restaurant, the bell on the door jingling as they pass through. A sign at the front says ‘seat yourselves’, so they find a booth in a corner and slide in.

The restaurant is relatively small and is about half full of people, so they have high hopes. Bitty hears a phone camera go off, the fake lens click nearly covered by the background din of the restaurant. He ignores it, thinking that someone’s taking a selfie.

“Hello, my name is Heather and I’ll be serving you today,” a middle aged woman sets down menus in front of them, “Can I start you out with something to drink?”

They all ask for water and the waitress rushes away.

“I’m looking forward to watching y’all play tomorrow,” Bitty says.

“It should be a good game,” Kent says, “Oh, we have something for you when we get back, remind us to give it to you.”

“I won’t let you forget,” Bitty responds excitedly.  

Bitty hears another fake lens click, then sees Jack’s mouth harden slightly, eyebrows furrowing. He’s looking resolutely at his menu, and Kent is leaning forward, subtly scanning the restaurant. Bitty gives him a questioning look.

“Some people recognize us and are taking pictures,” Kent murmurs.

Bitty’s eyes widen briefly as he resists the urge to swing his head around and give whoever is taking their picture a talking to. Instead, he goes to put a comforting hand over Jack’s, but restrains himself there too, tendons drawn taut against the back of his hands. A comforting look is the best he can do, accompanied by a subtle nudge with his foot under the table.

The waitress comes back with their waters.

“Are you ready to order?” She asks, pen at the ready.

They all look at each other, nodding.

“Can I get the Chicken Tender Platter please?” Jack asks, sliding his menu to the end of the table.

“Can I get the same thing?” Kent asks when the waitress asks what he would like.

“Me too,” Bitty says at the waitress’s inquiring look.

“Alrighty, three chicken tender platters coming right up.” The waitress collects the menus and whisks away.

“Did you even look at your menus?” Jack asks, visibly trying to lighten up.

Bitty chuckles, “nope.”

“If we are coming here because they have good tenders, then I am getting some tenders,” Kent shoots Jack a smile.

Jack brightens a bit, then takes a sip of his water.

“Kenny,” Jack nudges Kent’s water towards him, “drink up, gotta stay hydrated.”

Kent snorts, then spites Jack by unwrapping one end of the straw and shooting the remaining straw wrapper at Jack. Jack chuckles, flicking the paper out of his hair, aiming for Kent but hitting Bitty with it instead.

“Why must you draw me into this war,” Bitty sighs, but unwraps the end of his straw, ready to fight.

He takes a big breath, blows, and nothing. Straw wrapper remains perfectly flush with the straw, and Kent is snickering into his hand. Bitty glares at his straw, then manually removes the wrapper and tries to throw it at Kent. This too is ineffective, straw paper fluttering in the air briefly before falling limply on the table. Bitty, in that moment, sees himself in that straw paper, so much potential, yet in the heat of the moment, prone on a table.

Jack chuckles, “It’s okay Bits, not all of us can be pro-athletes.”

“Mister Zimmermann,” Bitty starts, “you’re the one who had poor aim in the first place.”

“He’s got you there, Zimms,” Kent smirks.

They are interrupted by the arrival of three plates of steaming food.

“I hope everyone enjoys,” the waitress says when she’s done distributing the food.

“Now, the moment of truth,” Jack murmurs before he sinks his teeth into a chicken tender.

His eyes close as he chews slowly, while Bitty and Kent dig in. Bitty dunks his in honey mustard, Kent in ketchup.

“Delicious,” Jack concludes, “Not the best I’ve ever had, but memorable.”

Bitty and Kent both nod.

“I almost want to order more already,” Kent says, his mouth half full after finishing his first chicken tender.

“These _are_ good,” Bitty says, more to himself than anyone. He never put tenders on the list of foods that could be brought up a step, but you learn something new every day.

They finish their meal, easy conversation intermingled with chirps distracting from any more pictures that might have been taken. They pay the bill and leave the restaurant, the air brisker than before. Bitty tugs his hat down and wraps his arms around himself.

“Too cold, Eh?” Jack chirps, winking.

“Not everyone was born in an icy tundra,” Bitty retorts.

Kent chuckles, “You’re the odd one out, Bits.”

They walk back to the hotel, leaving trails of fog in their wake, walking close but distinctly not touching. Snow starts to fall, and Bitty watches how it settles onto Kent’s lashes and crests on the curl of Jack’s fringe.

-

They are waiting for the elevator, casually glancing around to see who could be watching them. The hallway is blissfully empty. The doors in front of them ding, then open to let out an older couple who smiles at them politely as leave. The three of them get on, press a button for the 5th floor, and wait, all glancing between each other. Kent slides a hand over to Bitty, starting to tangle their fingers together. Jack’s eyebrows shoot up.

“We shouldn-” Bitty gets cut off.

“I don’t care right now,” Kent murmurs defiantly, smirk tugging on his lips. He glances towards the doors, “I had half a mind to shove you against those doors as soon as we got in here.”

“Oh,” Bitty’s eyes widen, Kent’s confession a spike of heat in his gut.

They feel the elevator settle and Kent quickly withdraws his hand, sneaking it back in his pocket right before the doors open. Jack lets out a quiet sigh of relief when he sees no one else in the hall. They get to the door to their room, one last casual glance around the empty hallway as they unlock the door.

Once in the room, Bitty sets down his backpack. The instant it leaves his hand, he feels the warm press of a chest against his back as strong arms snake around his waist.

“Kent gave me the idea,” Jack explains, tucking his nose into Bitty’s hair.

Kent stares at them for a second, face soft, heat flickering in his eyes. Bitty raises his arms, beckoning Kent to come over. Kent slides into his embrace, pressing a kiss to Bitty’s temple, then to Jack’s cheek as he wraps his arms as far as he can around both of them.

“Jack you are better qualified for this position,” Kent says.

“I’m not that much taller than you,” Jack teases.

“You’re also like, so broad dude. I’m actually expending effort to try to give you a complete hug,” Kent teases back.

“You know, I can think of a solution to this predicament,” Bitty suggests, eyebrows flashing.

“Okay that’s it,” Kent says, tugging Bitty towards him.

He kisses Bitty roughly for a second, gripping the collar of his shirt with one hand, his waist with the other.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs lowly when they break apart, voice rough with the grit of arousal.

“Yes please,” Bitty pants hotly between them.

Jack watches them as Kent captures Bitty’s mouth again, breath rushing out when Bitty’s muffled whimper against Kent’s mouth punches him in the gut, pants getting tighter by the second.

Kent grips Bitty’s ass, picking him up as he wraps his legs around him in a vice. Kent swings around and heads for the bed, nearly knocking a lamp down in the process. Kent looks back at the teetering lamp, laughing softly, before dropping Bitty on the bed.

“Oh my god we can’t break anything,” Bitty laughs.

“I don’t think the lamp is what we should be worrying about,” Jack smirks, moving to get on the bed with Bitty.

“Big talk, but can you back it up?” Kent comes up behind him and slides a hand tantalizingly slow down his chest, his stomach.

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” Jack winks.

Bitty kisses the smirk off his face, tongue diving past his lips to taste the low groan resounding in Jack’s throat. Kent works on the button of Jack’s jeans.

They don’t end up breaking the bed. This time.

-

Sun filters in through the window the following morning, illuminating Kent’s hair in a halo peeking up from the pillows as Bitty blinks awake. Jack is already sitting up, stretching. Jack sees Bitty stir and ruffles his hair.

“We gotta get ready for morning skate,” Jack says softly, gently shaking Kent’s shoulder. “Kent, wake up.”

Kent groans, shoving the blanket over his head.

“Nope, we’re not doing that,” Jack says, then he yanks the blanket off of Kent’s torso.

“Okay okay okay,” Kent rubs the sleep from his eyes, then sits up, “I’m awake.”

They all get out of bed, grateful that they had the sense to shower last night before they all fell asleep. Jack is opening his suitcase to take out some workout clothes when he remembers.

“Oh, Bits!” He calls Bitty over.

Jack pulls a Falcs jersey from his suitcase, handing it out to Bitty. Bitty lights up, hands going to cover his mouth. Kent sees the jersey and starts rummaging through his duffle.

“Here, this one says Zimmermann on the back.” Jack winks.

“Oh thank you sweetheart! I can wear it to the game today!” Bitty gushes, holding the jersey out in front of him to take it all in.

“And this one says Parson,” Kent lays another jersey on the bed in front of Bitty, smiling broadly.

“Oh, honey! Thank you!” Bitty lays both of them down, side by side. “I’ll- I’ll wear them both today!” Bitty decides determinedly, “I’ll switch out at half time.”

Kent chuckles while Jack pulls Bitty into a hug.

“Thank you, Bits,” Kent says, “For coming to see our game.”

“No, I’m just so happy I can see you and support you both,” Bitty says sincerely, turning in Jack’s arms to gaze at Kent. “You guys are the sweetest, most wonderful men,” Bitty gushes, “and I feel so lucky to be with y’all.”

Kent leans forward and kisses Bitty, sweetly, but deeply. On the breakaway, Kent ducks forward on his toes to meet Jack’s lips, sincerely, lovingly.

-

The day is full of potential when they part ways, Kent and Jack to their practice, Bitty to hang in a coffee shop while he waits for the game to start. The Falcs have good odds of winning and Bitty is currently decked in a jersey bearing his boyfriend’s name on it.

Bitty looks out onto the city street and sips on a latte, sending a selfie of him in his jersey to Kent and Jack. Leaning back in his chair, he can’t help but wish he could see them both longer, savoring the valleys in their collarbones and the lights in their eyes like a fine wine that only gets better with age, mulling over intricate notes with his tongue and discovering new nuances with every taste.

He hopes, at least.

Because right now, they’re good. Right now, they’re great.

-

The Falconers win their game against the Rangers, and if privately Bitty takes that as a good omen for what is to come, then that’s his secret to keep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can reblog this work [HERE](http://pbj-epifest.tumblr.com/post/155005297444/fic-lets-start-right-now) from the pbj-epifest tumblr page!


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